So, let the rain soak through the coat. Let the bad joke land in a silent room. Let the heart beat fast for no reason other than the fact that it can. I am tired of being a spectator to my own pulse. I am ready to be the storm.
I need to feel the weight of the air before it turns into a storm—that specific, electric stillness that tells you the world is about to change its mind. i_need_to_feel
Is there a (joy, melancholy, anger) you want to center? So, let the rain soak through the coat
I need to feel the sharp, cold snap of reality. I want the kind of wind that makes you tuck your chin into your chest, the kind that reminds you that you have skin and that skin is a boundary between the "you" inside and the "everything else" outside. I want to stand in a crowd and feel the heat of a hundred different lives vibrating against mine, or sit in a silence so absolute that the sound of my own heart feels like an intrusion. I am tired of being a spectator to my own pulse
